What's in a Name?
by Zayz
Summary: [Sparrabethy Oneshot] AU, in the sense that Anna Maria reappears. Rated for language. Description of plot would give away too much. R&R?


**What's in a Name?**

_Apologies for the over-usage for the word 'bloody;' you know Jack – when he's mad, he uses that word, and I wanted to be as Jack-like as possible. :D And I also apologize for the short length; I had just one idea, and I didn't feel the need to create a more complex story. It's short and sweet (the sweet was much to Mr. Sparrow's intense sorrow) and that's the way it was meant to be written. Oh, and I do love Will Turner (though not with Elizabeth) and I love babies as well; don't be fooled when you read the story. :D Leave reviews!_

It was truly a strange night for Captain Jack Sparrow.

First of all, it was silent. No place should ever be silent if Jack Sparrow was in it. Second of all, it was still. Whenever Jack was anywhere, the air was buzzing with life, and more importantly, rum; now, it was more like the air one might find in, say, Port Royal, where he had once taken port. He and his current conquest, Anna Maria, were lounging about on the beach near a small town, and neither of them had said a word. Granted, Anna Maria was in no condition to say anything, but it was still an oddity that Jack had nothing to say. Well, he had things to say, but they weren't things that he wanted to say out loud; they were things that would stay within the shade of his mind.

Now, what's bothering you, he asked himself. What was still nagging at you? Come on, he tried to coax himself; be honest. Admit what was wrong, no matter how much you hate it. It'll help if you just think it; don't say it, but think it.

Deep breath. Hand around Anna's shoulders to humor her. Be bloody relaxed, he tried to tell himself. Tense is not good. Tense prevents honesty, and honesty might actually come in handy this time. Another deep breath. Think. Admit. Cleanse internally – that way, it wouldn't be necessary to do for another twenty years or so.

Okay, the truth: he was still not over that bloody governor's daughter. There, he had admitted it to himself while sitting on the beach with Anna Maria; he still missed Elizabeth Swann. Turner. Ahem. He kept remembering her as a headstrong, stubborn young lass with the last name of Swann, rather than a headstrong, stubborn young lass who was now married to Will Turner, one of Jack's least favorite people in the world. Yes, yes, how sweet and lovely; he still missed her. Well it wasn't bloody lovely; it was just stupid, and there was no reason whatsoever for him to feel that way.

Jack glanced over at Anna next to him. She was breathing heavily from the walk to the island; one fine bloody night, Jack had managed to get her pregnant, and she was about ready to give birth any day. He hadn't meant to or anything; actually, it was bloody inconvenient, because then he couldn't really dump her as quickly as he wanted to. But now her stomach was alarmingly large, and it was Jack's duty to her to help her deliver before leaving her. It was only fair. She knew that he didn't love her anymore, but she wanted his company nonetheless; it was odd, but Jack was in no state to argue against her.

The only reason he had really gotten back with Anna Maria for a little while was because he missed that bloody girl. He hated thinking her name, so she was just 'that girl' in his mind, even though she had always amounted to much more than that. 'That girl' was the reason he couldn't sleep at night. She was the cause of his extra frustration. To try forgetting about her, he had gotten in bed with Anna, trying to convince himself that he was over her. Not only had that bloody failed, Anna was bloody pregnant. What a bloody mess. At least using vulgar speech helped a little. Not a lot, but a little.

"Damn you, Sparrow," Anna snapped suddenly into the silence. "It's bloody killing me; why did you have to get me pregnant?"

"I didn't bloody want to," Jack snapped back drunkenly; resisting rum was not his strong point when he was so bloody depressed. "You just happened to. Not my bloody fault."

"Yes, it is your bloody fault, because now I have to bloody give birth and I don't know what to do." She had a point there; she didn't know what to do, and there was a baby inside of her, wanting to get out. What was he supposed to bloody do? Probably whisk her off to the town and get her into a hospital; make them take care of her. It wasn't his job – he wasn't married to her, nor did he love her. Not like he had loved…ugh, stop thinking about her, he shouted at himself. Thinking about her won't bring her back! Not that he wanted her back or anything…she had bloody killed him, and then ran off with the whelp, so why would he want her in his life again?

Trying to shake off these irritating thoughts, he rushed Anna off to the hospital and threw her in the care of the nurses there. For about an hour, he listened to her screaming her bloody lungs out, and clashing with her shouts came the shouts of nurses, trying to convince her to let her burden go, even though it hurt her to do so. It was a good thing he wasn't a woman, Jack thought grimly. Giving birth sounded bloody painful.

After a few minutes, Anna had seemingly passed out from exhaustion and the cries of a newborn baby filled the halls. Jack was obviously not the touchy-feely type of person, but he couldn't help but marvel at the sound. The child was terrified of being in a world that was not Anna's womb, and its lungs were still unaccustomed to air; he could tell from the shallow noises coming between cries. By some unexplained whim, Jack longed to see this baby; it was partially his, after all. But no, he couldn't; he would have to leave, so that the mother and baby could be together and he could finally live alone again. He hated being in the company of one person for too long. Except, of course, _her_, but she was a bloody murderess and Turner, so she didn't count. She probably had her own baby with the whelp; for a moment, Jack pitied the poor thing. Having that lad as a father! It was bad enough having him on board a ship, let alone living in the same house as him. Yuck.

Eventually, a nurse popped her head out of the door and asked, "Would you like to see the baby?" She was looking at him as though he was a blessed angel, rather than a pirate with a beard and too many trinkets who smelled of rum. That was a change. To humor her (he seemed to be humoring women often lately), he let her lead him to the room with Anna and the baby he had previously wanted to see (but now didn't). Anna had indeed passed out, but the baby had been cleaned and was in a blanket, waiting to meet its father.

"Is it a girl or a boy?" Jack inquired gruffly.

"A girl," the nurse said proudly, as though she herself had conceived it. "She's a beautiful, beautiful baby girl."

The thing in Jack's arms was not beautiful at all. It was frail; it couldn't do anything besides squirm and cry. Well, that was an asset to her, he supposed; that lass could screech like nothing he had ever heard before. But then again, she was his daughter after all; her father was a yeller, and now she was too. For a moment, Jack was almost proud. Almost.

"What's it's – her – name?" Hopefully Anna had named her; Jack didn't want to name this tiny, allegedly beautiful little girl when he had no idea what to call her.

"Would you like to name her?" the nurse asked. "Her mother is a bit unable to at the moment." Yes, she would be, considering that she was unconscious; what a bright woman. Jack wished he could roll his eyes, but he couldn't; she had handed him his daughter, his own flesh and blood, and he could somehow not find the remorselessness to roll his eyes at her.

"Yes, I would," Jack said, surprising both the nurse and himself. He had fantasized about this a little before, though he was ashamed to own up to it, and now seemed to be the perfect moment to make the fantasy real; Anna was not awake to ask him why the bloody hell he was doing what he was.

"I, Captain Jack Sparrow, would like to name this girl Elizabeth Sparrow."

_Yes, he did name her after Mrs. Turner, in case you were wondering. :D Told you it was mushy. Now leave me a review telling me never to write something like this again, because then I can trust you and not do it. :D_

_Disclaimer: All rights go to their legal owners; Pirates of the Caribbean, Jack Sparrow, Anna Maria, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann/Turner and anyone else recognizable in this story do not belong to me._


End file.
